


Batman doesn't sneeze.

by AnAngryRat



Category: DCU
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 08:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12077628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngryRat/pseuds/AnAngryRat
Summary: Clark starts catching the small things, like Bruce trips over his own feet, and sometimes runs into corners...like a...human or something.





	Batman doesn't sneeze.

Bruce was the very image of collected. Most of the time. Clark was more often than not on the other side of his breaking point. The anger spinning words into the sharpest needles penetrating even the strongest man’s defense. Him and the boys they all had that experience. It was a shared look of knowing when Tim wiped his eyes hastily, Jason's hand being bandaged by Alfred next to a cracked wall, Dick silent and contemplative, and Damian leaving a trail of wreckage in his path. They knew. They forgave. They moved on. Or at least Clark did.

But even the when he descended on them like an angel of wrath he still looked like an angel. It was, odd to say the least. Bruce looked perfect, his words were concise, he ate with grace and gratuity, and was so dignified he was unreachable. When he lost that bit of control it was still beautiful, like watching a musician who practiced until their fingers bled play their piece perfectly like it was what they were meant to do. Even when it was ripping to shreds the closest person, loved one or not.

Then, one day, Clark caught him tripping. He almost missed it while watching a movie with Tim and Con. If he didn't always have an ear on Bruce he wouldn't have caught the tell-tale sound of a foot misstepping. Clarks head whipped around and he saw the tail end of arms waving and Bruce straightening as he regained his balance and walked onward. Clark watched his back and stuffed his face with a handful of popcorn. Interesting.

 

Batman never stumbled. He was punched, kicked, flipped, thrown, stabbed, and shot at, but never stumbled. He got up maybe swayed but didn't do human things like trip over his own feet, or as Clark saw at that exact moment, miss his lips while drinking coffee. Bruce flinched as the coffee hit his lap and stood up gracefully keeping the cup level and wiped a steadfast napkin down his shirt. Clark dropped his fork. Bruce looked up at him blandly and raised an eyebrow sitting back down completely unruffled.

"What?"

Don't say, you're human. Don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it you'll look like an idiot Clark. Ice blue eyes pierced him.

"I love your eyes."

Damian's fork scraped his plate and Dick choked on a waffle even Alfred seemed to stumble, turning to level him with a look.

"What." Bruce's brows drew in like he was looking at a particularly hard case.

"The remind me of the Fortress."

Bruce's expression of speculation intensified. Clark didn't want to even look at Dick.

"What," Bruce asked on a soft disbelieving whisper. Clark got up to leave stumbling and tripping forgetting for a few yards after he exited the back door that he could FLY.

 

Dicks laughter was disrupting Bruce's already very strange breakfast. Damian was scowling at the man for him so he didn't feel the need to comment only continuing to drink his coffee and read the news off his phone.

"Like the Fortress," Dick gasped. Before erupting into small chortles again. "Bruce, the man has got to be in love. Give him the time of day for chrissakes."

Bruce set down his coffee cup without looking up from his phone. "You're supposed to be at your job in Bludhaven in fifteen minutes."

He was silenced almost immediately.

"Can you give me the...?"

Bruce looked up from his phone blandly before returning to reading the news The 'no' crystal clear. Dick stood up and rubbed Damian's head. "Bye, Damy Wayney." Damian slapped his hand and scowled, Dick laughed and meandered out of the kitchen accepting of his tardiness.

The sharp clink of Damian's silverware against his plate was all that filled his absence.

"I don't approve of you and the alien."

"I don't approve of the cameras you put in Dicks room, but I don't mention it because unlike you I'm not a hypocrite."

Damian's eyes narrowed and he held out his fork threateningly. The effect ruined by the syrup on his cheek.

"You know nothing."

"You should talk to Tim, he's much more discreet about bugging people. He also uses a separate network than the manors to stream." Bruce said around the lip of his cup.

Damian threw his utensils down and stomped out of the room.

Bruce considered his fatherly duties done for the day and gulped down the rest of his coffee.

 

Clark walked into a wall the next time it happened. It was just them on the Watchtower and Clark was walking through the whooshing doors to the meeting room. They opened showing Batman hunched around papers and clicking through storage files. Then he sneezed. It was high pitched and squeaked at the end. Clark gasped and clipped his shoulder on the edge of the doorway smacking his forehead on the corner. The metal wall dented.

"Shit," he hissed floating backwards.

He tried to mold it back and instead just ripped off a chunk. Which he welded together into a lumpy mess.

"What are you doing?" Batman’s voice cut through Clarks concentration on trying to get the two large pieces of metal to fit together.

"Nothing."

"I'll repair the wall later, Superman."

Clark turned to him feeling frustrated. "This is your fault."

Clark couldn't see much behind the mask but he could feel it in his bones that Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"It's your fault for being so--"

Don't say it, don't say human, don't say it don't say it "...so..." don't say it, don't say it "so cute!"

Clark slapped a hand over his face and tried not to scream. Why was everything out of his mouth so much worse than what he wanted to say?

Bruce had moved around the table to stand in front of him showing off his height and crossing his formidable arms making his muscles bulge.

"Cute."

"Yes."

Bruce was clearly waiting for him to extrapolate. While Clark could throw Batman into the sun if he wanted to. He still felt intimidated. He broke after making eye contact with Bruce's lips. They were in a perfectly straight line. He was smiling at Clarks pain.

"Yes. You're cute. You sneeze like a kitten."

"I know. Tim knows. Not that anyone would believe him." Bruce turned away. "Or you for that matter."

Fuck. He was right. Clark wouldn't have told anyone but now that he couldn't? He felt like he lost at something he wasn't even playing. The emergency signaled blared ending any response he could have possibly thought of.

 

The battle had been short. Ish. It was hours long, but not days. Then Bruce disappeared. Then the alien droids dropped from the sky. And the horrible deafening silence as Clark and Diana began head counts and Batman didn't respond. Clark was in the air in moments listening and scanning. He actually got hit with the crashing alien ship. He was so focused on finding Batman in the ground he didn't even consider him to be in the sky. He'd stopped its descent on the crowded city street and dropped it off at a football stadium. The League gathered there ready for the next fight when to no one’s surprise Batman blasted a wall off and collapsed. Hawkgirl stopped his fifty-foot drop and landed awkwardly with his weight.

"He's not responding," she said clinical. Green Lantern encased him in his light keeping him off the ground.

"Let's get back to the Watchtower asap!" Diana barked. Clark watched them leave and wondered how even now Bruce looked like an actor in a movie.

 

Clark sat by the medical bed staring at him. This was the same man who missed his mouth while drinking coffee and tripped over his own feet and sneezed like a kitten. He was bruised and battered eye slightly swollen and still... Clark clenched his fists and almost made a move to leave but felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even heard Diana come in too focused on Bruce's heartbeat.

"How's he been?" She asked.

"Asleep." Clark said with a small pinch of bitterness. "He looks like a supermodel for a cologne ad."

She blew air through her nose in a silent laugh. Clark turned to her questioningly.

"Ask him out," she suggested.

"What?" Clark squeaked his face flushing.

"He has very dexterous fingers, it would be a shame should you not take the chance to experience them," Diana said as explanation. Clark felt all his blood rush to his face. She let out an audible chuckle, and patted him on the back. "He is not as untouchable as you might think." With that she left.

Hours passed Clark shifting wildly between blushing at Diana's advice and staring into the vastness of space and realizing he was more likely to survive exposure to a red star then have Bruce look twice at him.

The soft swish of shifting fabric dragged his eyes over to Bruce who cracked open an eye and smirked.

"Good job Boy Scout." Then he closed his eyes and returned to the land of the unconscious.

Clark blinked. Well. Fuck.

 

Batman asked for a review of what happened while he was in the mothership a week later after he'd left the med bay. Four cracked rips, two broken, a broken wrist and several other lacerations and contusions, he'd walked out of the med bay eight hours after being sent in and gave his thanks.

Clark was, because he was technically the closest, supposed to be the messenger boy. He stepped into the cave and was surprised when no one greeted him. He walked looking for signs of life when he stumbled upon a row of sleeping cots with IVs next to them. One of them contained a sprawled-out Bruce, limbs hanging off the edge, his broken wrist in cast tucked up under his chin. He was drooling and Clark could see the dark circles under his eyes.

"Uh..."

And like that Bruce leaped out of bed and was holding himself crouched and balanced ready for a fight. He had bedhead. He looked like a cockatoo. Clark’s ears were bright red.

Bruce squinted at him wiping the corner of his mouth.

"The alarms should have woken me up," he said running a hand through his hair making it perfectly coifed again, back straightened and then he looked almost like an untouchable god, a silver screen separating them. He paused in thought then stretched his neck. "Damian. Of course."

Clark took a step back and pointed over his shoulder. "Should I-- should I leave?"

"No." Bruce said moving past him towards his super computer and opened a large file already filled with data he got from the mother ship. "I need details about the autonomy of how they moved."

Clark couldn't remember a single thing about the robots in that moment. He wasn't even wearing the suit just plaid and kakis. Nothing to remind him of the dignified fall Batman took off an alien ship. "Um..." he could hear motorcycles a mile from the cave. A soft beep alerted Bruce of their arrival. "You sure?"

Bruce turned to eye him. Clark did his best not to eye his low hanging sleep pants and tank top. His scars looked perfect too. How? The point of a scar was to be ugly.

"You've been off recently. Anything you want to tell me?"

Clark opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. "Naw..."

Bruce stood up crossing his arms and cornered him.

"You sure?"

Don't say it Clark. Don't say it.

"You're human."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Achingly so. You trip over your own feet, sneeze like a kitten--"

"I FUCKING KNEW IT." Tim shouted. He was the only one there but the others, Dick enthusiastically, Damian and Jason less so, arrived shortly after. "I knew someone would catch you Bruce. Then I'd finally have the second witness to prove my testimony."

"What?" Jason asked.

Tim turned to him finger pointed in the air. "That Bruce sneezes like a kitten."

Dick snorted. "No, he doesn't."

"That's impossible." Jason intoned.

"Tch."

"Wha-?" Tim gaped.

Dick wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I've been around Bruce for over a decade, the man just doesn't sneeze. It's a mystery, I thought he was alien but his DNA still checks out as human."

Tim looked helplessly at Clark. Clark shook his head. He wasn’t entering this. It was two against Bruce Wayne they’d need at least Damian to catch him before they’d have any leverage.

Time sighed as Dick walked him out of the cave, Jason and Damian following at a more sedate place.

"I know it's horrible, but he has to look better than everyone else."

The last thing audible to humans was Jason's snortle as the clock closed behind them.

"They left really quickly," Clark muttered missing the distraction.

"I told them you'd be here, and that I'd want an update in the morning." Bruce paused tilting his head. "Alfred might have also decided to make homemade twinkies."

“You can do that?” Clark was incredulous.

“Alfred can do that.” That was just a universal truth.

"Oh." Clark said. There was enough space between them for him to leave but-- Bruce locked him down with his ice blue eyes and furrowed detective stare.

"Continue, about me being human."

"You aren't one now." Clark muttered. He was otherworldly. A GQ model...almost. Arms crossed barefoot and waiting. He held all the cards, knew it and still held them over Clarks head waiting for him to try and grab just to move them beyond his reach.

"I'm standing next to a near invulnerable alien, healing from being thrown against a wall too many times, and according to you and your impeccable knowledge, I am not in fact a human."

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "When you say it like that..."

"You're beating around the bush. It's unlike you, Clark." Bruce said. He uncrossed his arms and flexed the fingers on his castes hand.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I'm in love with the you that doesn't realize he still has drool on his cheek." Clark blurted. Bruce immediately wiped it off and flushed all the way to his ears. Clark grabbed his hands. "And the man that looks unearthly while unconscious bloody and battered, and is graceful when broken, and yet still misses his mouth when trying to sip his coffee."

Bruce was silent mouth opened in a small ‘o’, the only read Clark was getting was surprise.

"So..." Clark said letting go of Bruce's hands and looking away. "I should--"

He was cut off by Bruce's lips on his. He ran his

 hands through Bruce's hair and when they came up for air he was mortified.

"How...? It's still perfect!"

Bruce smirked and pulled him in for another kiss. The mystery would just have to continue.

**Author's Note:**

> If any of ya'll are wondering what the fuck happened to the other thing I'm writing...I am writing it. It will update. Hand to HigherBeing.


End file.
